Fallen Angel
by GregsMadHatter
Summary: After Warrick’s body is found, each members of the team become devastated and have to find his murderer while dealing with their own grief.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Fallen Angel**

**Summary: After Warrick's body is found, each members of the team become devastated and have to find his murderer while dealing with their own grief.**

**Spoilers: For Gedda**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI**

**Chapter 1**

"Has anyone seen Warrick?" asked Grissom as he came into the room where Catherine and Nick sat. Greg had left the night previous to LA to talk with three publishers. "I thought he went home," replied Nick.

"Well, he's not picking up his home or cell phone," replied Grissom.

"Maybe he's still sleeping. He has had a trying time for the past 48 hours," replied

Catherine.

"I don't know, this doesn't seem like Warrick. Maybe we should go check out his place just to be safe," said Nick.

Grissom nodded and the three of them walked out of the lab and into the Chevy Tahoe. During the ride over there, Nick couldn't help but feel as if something was wrong with Warrick. This was definitely NOT like him. Warrick wasn't the heaviest sleeper in the world. Greg maybe, but Warrick…no, the vibrations from his phone would have woken him up even if it was in the room on the other side of the house…okay, maybe he was exaggerating a little bit, but still. When they arrived at Warrick's house, they saw that his car was not in the driveway. "It looks like he's not even home," stated Nick.

Things were beginning to grow a little shady now. If Warrick wasn't at home, then where was he? They were just about to get out when Grissom's phone began to vibrate. Quickly, he brought the phone to his ear and said, "Grissom…what? Are you…? Okay, we'll be right over."

After hanging up, a solemn look came over Grissom's face. "What is it?" asked Catherine.

"They found Warrick's car in the alley next to the restaurant we had dinner at."

"And…Warrick?" asked Nick, feeling like he didn't want to know the answer.

After taking a deep breath, Grissom replied, "The coroner pronounced him dead at the scene."

Both Catherine and Nick felt their hearts sink. Warrick…dead? That couldn't be possible. Who would want to kill Warrick? Maybe it was the same bastard that set him up in the first place. Nick felt rage emanating from his broken heart and Catherine felt as if hers had been torn in two. There had always been a feeling for him there in her heart, especially after Eddie died. Grissom remained unreadable to them, but they knew that he was grieving for Warrick as much as they were. The ride over to the scene was a quiet one. When they arrived, from the sidelines, it looked like a normal scene, but they all knew that this scene was different from the rest. The victim wasn't someone they could detach from. The victim was their friend. And Greg…Greg had no idea. After flashing their IDs to the officers, Brass met them at the tape and led them to the familiar Mustang. And, sure enough, inside with a bullet wound in the neck, was their friend, Warrick Brown. Catherine broke down in tears, turning into Nick's shoulders. Nick placed his arms around her, tears falling down his face as well. "I'm sorry," stated Brass with a solemn sound in his voice.

"Who's working the scene?" asked Grissom without turning his attention away from Warrick's dead body.

After taking in a deep breath, Brass replied, "Ecklie is on his way over as we speak."

Grissom turned to Brass and said, "I want this case."

"I'm sorry, Gil, but you guys are too emotionally attached to this. The Undersheriff clearly stated that Ecklie was to be the primary on this case."

Grissom turned to look at Catherine and Nick, two of the three CSIs he had left. First Sara and now Warrick. "Gil, I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you guys to clear the scene," stated Brass.

But everyone was frozen to the spot. They didn't want to leave. They didn't want to leave their co-worker, their friend…their brother. "Guys…you need to leave," reminded Brass.

Grissom looked at Catherine and Nick once more and muttered with no tone, "Come on, let's go."

Catherine and Nick didn't respond. They just went back to the Tahoe they had arrived in. Grissom then turned to Brass and said, "Keep me informed on how the case goes. I want to know every detail."

"Will do."

Grissom smiled and went back to the Tahoe. Inside, Catherine was laying her head against the window while Nick was stretched out across the seats, both deep in thought. When Grissom got into the driver's seat, he asked, "Has anyone called Greg yet?"

"No, I'm postponing that for a bit. Greg's in a good place right now, I don't want to ruin his day just yet," replied Nick.

"He has a right to know," stated Grissom.

After heaving a deep sigh, Nick pulled out his cellphone from his pocket and dialed the familiar number that belonged to Greg Sanders.

* * *

"I've read your book over and over again, and it amazes me what life was like back then in Vegas, Mr. Sanders. It would be my pleasure to publish your book," smiled the ever warm and polite publisher.

The brown-haired youth known as Greg Sanders let slip a bright smile and asked, "Really?"

"Really, really. We'll send your book to the company to print out more copies and get them on the shelves straight away."

Greg felt like he was in heaven. Here he was, a CSI in Vegas getting a book about famous gangsters in Las Vegas published. It felt like his life was finally turning around. The publisher stood up, as did Greg, and the two men shook hands. "I look forward to working with you in the future, Mr. Sanders."

"Thank you, sir. You have no idea how much this means to me," replied Greg.

"I'm sure it means a lot. Pleasure doing business with you."

And with that, Greg turned, took his hat and coat from the coat rack and walked into the beautiful sunshine of Los Angeles. It had seemed like years since had had been in California. His home-state. The sun met him with open arms and reminded him of how well his life was going. He had just got into his car when his phone began to ring. Looking at the caller ID, he saw that his caller was none other than Nick Stokes. With a smile, he opened his phone and greeted, "Hey Nicky, what's up…I'm great. I just talked to the publisher and they're going to publish the book. How are you guys doing without me…Nick, what's wrong?"

There was a sudden sadness in Greg's voice that he had never heard before. After four minutes, the smile that had once occupied his face had dropped into a frown. "Are…are you sure? What happened…what? I can't believe it. Who's investigating it…ECKLIE!? How is that possible? The killer's going to get away with it. You guys know that Ecklie determines how he wants the evidence to turn out before it's even processed…How's Catherine taking it…and Grissom…man, this is bullshit. Who would want Warrick dead…has anyone called Sara yet…okay, I'm going to catch the earliest flight back to Vegas and meet up with you guys…hang in there, man."

After Greg slowly hung up the phone, there was an overwhelming rage. His blood was boiling and before he knew it, he threw his phone onto the seat, shouting, "SON OF A BITCH!"

After punching the steering wheel as hard as he could, he rested his head on it and sat there, tears slowly falling down his face. And what seemed like a great new life took a turn back down the road of sorrow, misery and hopelessness.

TBC…

**Well guys, let me know what you think. I have BIG plans for this story, including something that's going to happen in the next chapter that has been confirmed by the producers of CSI, so if you what to know what it is, leave a nice BIG REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, I can't believe how many of you guys liked the story

**Wow, I can't believe how many of you guys liked the story. Sorry it took so long, I've been very…VERY BUSY! But I've found time to write this next chapter, so I hope you enjoy it as much as you did the first chapter.**

**Chapter 2**

Greg caught the first flight back to Las Vegas. He wanted to get back as soon as humanly possibly. If he took Warrick's death as hard as he did, he can only imagine how the others had taken it. Catherine probably took it the worst. He had seen the way they flirted with each other and always hinted towards them to make the first move. Guess that was never going to happen. After the entire entire ride back to Vegas, Greg headed towards baggage claim and had just picked up his suitcase when a familiar voice behind him greeted, "Hey Greg."

Slowly, Greg turned on his heel and saw someone he thought he would never see again. It was Sara Sidle, a bag slung over her shoulder. "S…Sara? What are you doing here?"

"I heard about what happened to Warrick on the news, so I decided to come back and help with the case."

Greg was still in shock. Sara was here, in Vegas? It was as if a dream had finally come true. "Are you going to stick around this time, Sara?"

"I might. Depends on how things turn out around here. Now, why are you claiming baggage here in the airport?"

"Oh, I was in Los Angeles talking to some publishers."

"Publishers?"

"Yeah, I finished my book."

"Congratulations."

They stood there in silence, staring at one another. Greg never thought he was ever going to see her again. Finally, Greg asked, "Well, do you have a place to stay? Cause if you don't I have a spare bedroom."

"If it isn't too much trouble…"

"Of course not!"

Sara flashed her amused smile. "Okay, Greg, then I guess I am staying at La Cirque de Sanders."

As Sara began to wheel her heavy suitcase towards the parking garage, Greg grabbed her suitcase from her. "Here, allow me."

However, Greg was having a hard time carrying both his and Sara's luggage. Sara laughed at Greg struggling and finally grabbed her bag away from him. "I think I'll have an easier time than you."

"Yeah," heaved Greg.

After they got into Greg's car, they began their long ride of silence. Greg wasn't sure what to say to her. What could he say to the person who taught him everything he knew and just ran off without saying goodbye? Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Why did you leave?"

Shockingly enough, she didn't respond with 'Why do you care?' or 'None of your business.' No, she replied with, "Because I just wanted to get away."

"What, you already hate us? Normally it takes someone twelve years to decide we are annoying," smiled Greg.

"No, just you."

"Ouch," laughed Greg.

They finally reached the lab, coming to the realization of why they were there. Warrick. "Why don't I take the lead? After all, they aren't expecting you."

Sara nodded and followed Greg inside. The once bright lab was now dark and bleak. Each person in the lab was missing the bright smiles that were normally worn on their faces. Warrick's death hit everyone hard. As they made their way through the lab towards the break room, the lab techs noticed Sara's presence and looked up in surprise. Finally, they arrived at the break room and saw the remaining members sulking around the room. After taking a deep breath, Greg opened the door and walked in. No one looked up to see who had entered the room. They were too deep in thought. So, Greg spoke unenthusiastically, "Hey guys."

This time, Nick looked up and a look of sadness pierced through Greg. Nick and Warrick had been best friends for what seemed to be forever. "Hey Greggo," stated Nick as he stood up and walked over to give Greg a hug.

Grissom and Catherine finally noticed Greg's presence and also followed Nick in giving him a hug. "How are you guys holding up?" asked Greg.

"Do you need to ask? You?" replied Grissom.

"Not so good. Oh, you'll never believe who I found at the airport."

Greg stood aside to show Sara to the three remaining CSIs. It was as if they felt the first part of happiness since the last sixteen hours. "Sara?" Grissom stuttered.

"Hey Gil," she smiled.

Grissom, of course, was the first to go up and greet Sara. After all, as far as they were concerned, they had never officially broken it off. "I heard about what happened to Warrick and decided to come out and help in anyway possible."

"That's nice to hear, Sara, but Ecklie won't let us go anywhere near the crime scene," stated Nick.

"Are you really going to let Ecklie stop you? We can't just sit back and wait to hear what's going on. Warrick wouldn't have wanted that," replied Greg.

At the sound of Warrick's name, Catherine began a new set of tears. Nick wrapped his arms around her and comforted her. "That's nice, Greg, but whatever we touch is compromised," said Grissom.

"Bullshit! You know full well that we don't judge any case on race, gender, crude or bubblegum flavor!" shouted Greg.

Grissom smiled. It was the same thing he said to Warrick back when he and Nick were fighting to get the CSI Level 3 spot. They ended up both getting it anyway. "What do you say guys?" asked Greg.

Nick looked at Greg and a look of determination filled his eyes. "I'm in."

Sara walked up next to Greg and stated, "Me too."

Catherine wiped away and tear and said in a soft voice, "For Warrick."

They all looked at Grissom, the one man that normally went by procedure. But they saw something in him that wasn't normally there; a sense of anger. Finally, he said softly but with a firm voice, "For Warrick."

TBC…

**Things are starting to heat up, no? There's gonna be a lot of CSI angst in this and, of course, adventure and suspense. Anyway, please R&R!**


	3. Chapter 3

Ok everyone, I know I haven't been the best with updating stories and whatnot and I know that you have all heard this excuse before, but I seriously have writer's block which doesn't like to go away

**Ok everyone, I know I haven't been the best with updating stories and whatnot and I know that you have all heard this excuse before, but I seriously have writer's block which doesn't like to go away. Anyway, I am going to do my best in updating this for you guys, okay?**

Chapter 3

As Ecklie walked down the halls of the lab towards his office, Greg ran up behind him and in a very happy voice asked, "Hey Ecklie, having an easy shift?"

"Save it, Sanders, I know that you know that I am working Brown's case and you want to know what I've found so far."

"I know you're working Warrick's case, but that doesn't mean I want to know what you know. I was just curious if I could see the case file."

"Absolutely not, Sanders," replied Ecklie as he walked into his office. Greg took in a deep breath and followed Ecklie inside. After shutting the door, Greg said in a more serious tone, "Listen, this is our friend here. Don't you think that we have the right to know what's been found so far?"

"You know I can't discuss an open case with anyone."

"Please, I'm just asking to see the results. Warrick is a good friend of mine. I want to closure."

Before Ecklie could counter Greg, the door opened to reveal Grissom. "Good timing, Gil. I need you to remove Greg from my office and remind him about policies in the lab."

"Actually, I'm here to side with Greg."

Ecklie's face fell at Grissom's words. "Oh come on, Gil. You're the senior CSI here; you should know the procedures like the back of your hand."

"And I do. I also know that we can't handle evidence in a case that would be considered emotionally involved to us, but there is nothing saying we can't see the results or have someone analyze them for us."

"Gil, this is my case. I'll let you know everything once we catch the guy. Now if you two would please leave, I have an important case to attend to."

But neither of them left. Ecklie slowly raised his eyes and said, "You can leave now."

"Oh come on, Ecklie! You know that we can help! Or are you afraid that we might find something you missed and made you look bad?" shouted Greg.

"Greg, why don't you go get some coffee?" stated Grissom.

Greg rolled his eyes as he left Grissom and Ecklie alone. "Conrad, Warrick was part of our team."

"And that is why the Undersheriff put me in charge on the crime scene."

"Why won't you let us look at the results? That's all we want! Maybe we could even help."

After putting down his pencil, Ecklie folded his hands together and looked at Grissom. "Gil, it is the lab's policy to not let anyone work on a case that they are emotionally involved in."

"But the policy doesn't say that the before mention party can't look at the results. Let's face it, Conrad, with both of the teams working together; we could get this case done in a flash. You and your team can handle the collection and the processing and we can look at the results and help determine leads."

After rubbing his forehead with his hand, Ecklie replied, "I'll allow it on one condition; your team follows my lead. If I tell them to go to a scene and talk to a suspect, they do it without any arguments."

"That's fine by me. Thank you, Conrad," smiled Grissom as he walked out of the office, leaving Ecklie with a little bit of a regret. When Grissom walked into the break room, the rest of the Graveyard team looked at hope. "He agreed as long as you listen to him. He's the lead on the case and that means we do what he says."

Nick nodded and said, "I'm fine with that."

"Yeah, me too," added Sara.

Catherine and Greg nodded with a smile. "So, now what do we do?" asked Greg.

"Go to the lab techs and ask what they have so far on Warrick's case. If they ask, say that Ecklie Okayed it. We don't want Hodges to reject our request. Nick and Greg, go talk to Bobby. Catherine, you talk to Wendy. I'll talk to Archie and Sara, why don't you go talk to Mandy," stated Grissom.

They each nodded and quickly ran out of the door. When Nick and Greg arrived at ballistics, they found Bobby Dawson looking at a something under the scope. "Hey Bobby, what do you got?" asked Nick.

"It's a bullet from Warrick's case, but I can't let you look. You're not on the case," he replied without looking up.

"Actually, we were put on for result examination only five seconds ago," smiled Greg.

Bobby turned and, with a smile, replied, "Well I'm glad to hear that. Why don't you look through the scope? The bullet is the bullet recovered from the scene."

Nick quickly walked to the microscope and stared into the eye piece. "Looks like a revolver," he muttered.

"You're right, cowboy. That bullet came from a MI-PP-R-01 Pump Pistol Cartridge Revolver. Now, I cross referenced all people in the greater Las Vegas area that hold that kind of weapon and I came up with a list, and that list ain't short, fellas," stated Bobby, handed a two page list of all Las Vegas residents that had a permit for the weapon.

Nick and Greg sighed as they stared at the list. "This is going to take a while," muttered Greg.

"You think? How much do you want to bet that the gun used was stolen from one of these people too?" asked Nick.

"I don't want to bet that because it's probably true. No one kills with their own guns anymore."

"I blame those forensic shows on TV," added Bobby.

"Well, we should probably show this to Ecklie. Thanks Bobby," replied Greg as he and Nick went to Ecklie's office. When they were outside the door, Greg handed Nick the list and said, "Why don't you take care of it? I think I've seen Ecklie enough for one day."

Nick smiled at Greg and went inside. "Hey Ecklie, we got the results back on the bullet from the scene. Came from a MI-PP-R-01 Pump Pistol Cartridge Revolver. Greg and I got a list of all the Las Vegas residents that have a registered revolver of the same type."

"Good. Why don't you two follow that lead, then? Don't want any of my people to miss anything," replied Ecklie with a hint of sarcasm.

Nick rolled his eyes with a smile and quickly left the room. Once he was out, Greg asked, "Well?"

"Ecklie told us to go knock on some doors. Let's go, Greggo. I'm driving."

As Nick walked away, Greg asked, "Why do you always drive?"

But Nick didn't answer. He just smiled. Greg rolled his eyes and quickly ran after him. It was going to be a long night.

TBC…

**Well, there you guys go. Let me know what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

Ok, wow

**Ok, wow! That is way too cool! That many reviews! You guys are amazing!**

**LOCISVU – Yeah, I'm sad too. Billy Peterson is so amazing on this show. I don't know what CSI will be like without him. At least he'll be around for the first 10 episodes and be reoccurring later on. But still…at least he can be the main character in our little fantasies.**

**grissomlove - yeah, but it's amazing what death can do to a person. I mean, who's to say Warrick won't reappear in memories or such? Hint hint. Oh and trust me, when they find out…there is going to be Hell to pay.**

**happyharper13 – muchas gracias! Ecklie was just kind of lazy and wanted to get Greg and Grissom off his back. Or maybe he did have a heart…but I doubt it.**

**Sawyer Fan – Oh definitely lots of Greg angst in the future! That is my specialty.**

**csimouse – why thank you!**

**Yobling and Reela 4 ever – Oh, please don't cry! I cried enough when I watched the episode…I don't think I can stand anymore tears! However, I guess I asked for it when I made these chapters incredibly emotional. Anyway, I am glad you like this story.**

**Chapter 4**

The list Bobby Dawson gave them included addresses that were on the opposite sides of Vegas. So far, Nick and Greg had collected forty guns, one was given to a friend in Seattle and eight others were confiscated by the police. That only left one family left. When they turned onto the street of the final home, Greg said, "Finally, the last house. Hey Nicky, after this you want to go grab a bite to eat?"

"No thanks, man. I want to get these guns back to Ballistics and see which on matches."

Greg nodded, understanding Nick's reasoning. He was best friends with Warrick. They use to be on cases and go out to lunch. They were even caught playing video games in the break room. It didn't surprise Greg one bit why Nick turned him down. He could only imagine the pain he must have been going through. Greg had known Warrick well enough to call him a friend and Warrick had helped Greg in the past when he was on his way to becoming a CSI, but not to the extent of Nick. Or Catherine, for that matter. Warrick was one of the nicest people he had known and to have him disappear just like that was heartbreaking to all. Finally, they pulled up to the house and walked to the front door. Without hesitation, Nick knocked on the door. Not a minute later, a man holding a tiny baby girl. "May I help you?" the man said with the hint of a Texan accent.

"Yes, my name is Nick Stokes and this is my partner, Greg Sanders. We're from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Are you Mr. Thomas Reynald?"

"Yes am I."

"We need to speak to you about a revolver registered under your name."

"Oh, can you please come in. It's Susie's lunchtime and she gets cranky when she doesn't get her lunch."

Mr. Reynald led Nick and Greg into the messiest house they had ever seen…well, Nick would argue that Greg's was a bit messier, but still, I was a pig-sty. Mr. Reynald sat down with a bottle in one hand and Susie in the other as Nick took the armchair and Greg stood next to him. "Why do you want to talk to me about my revolver?"

"We're investigating a murder where a revolver that matches your make was used. We were hoping that we could take the gun back with us to the lab to test it against the bullet we recovered," replied Nick.

"Well, I'd love to help y'all, I really would, but my gun was confiscated a few months ago."

"Confiscated?" asked Greg.

"Yeah, by my wife. She was already against guns, and when Susie came along, she wanted the gun gone. Didn't want Susie to find it and shoot a hole in her foot. The missus took the gun and gave it to a friend."

"Do you know who she gave it to?" asked Nick.

"No damn clue. Wouldn't tell me. That gun was passed down from generation to generation in my family from son to son. If she told me, I would have gone after it and taken in back myself."

"I see. Do you mind if we talk to your wife?" asked Greg.

"Can't do that either. She left yesterday for a work conference in Chicago."

"Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Reynald," stated Nick as he and Greg left the house. They were walking to their car when Greg stated, "We're going to test fire forty guns and watch as none of them match."

"Yeah, and the eight that were confiscated by police would have matched the bullet in IVIS. That leaves the other two which are unaccounted for. Those are probably the two we need," replied Nick.

"Well, I highly doubt someone in Seattle is going to come all the way down to Vegas to kill someone, so I guess our gun is the one that Mr. Reynald no longer has. But, of course, that is why this job is so fun!"

Greg was hoping that his sarcasm might cheer Nick up. And it did, in a way. As they headed back to the lab, Nick said, "There's a mole in the lab…there's gotta be."

"Well, of course there is! We established that when Gedda was killed."

"I know, but this mole is probably our killer."

"That's a stretch…"

"But it's the best lead we have."

There was a few moments of silence when Greg commented, "You know, we could find the mole…just you and me. I mean, it's not TECHNICALLY Warrick's case, but if we find the mole, we find his killer."

"Doesn't that mean it IS Warrick's case?"

"Nick, the mole probably wasn't the guy to that killed Warrick. The mole was the person who set him up and was the person who caused Warrick to get killed. Does that make him a murderer? Yes. But the only guy Ecklie is after is the guy who pulled the trigger. You and me, we could find the why while everyone else finds the how."

"And what about the others?"

"We need someone working Ecklie's part of the case so we can take leads off of that. Come on Nick, you and me, the dynamic duo! We can do this!"

Maybe talking like Warrick as a victim wasn't the best thing for Nick now. Warrick wasn't just any old victim…he was a close, dear friend. But if got Nick in… "Do you think Grissom will be on board with this?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I can think of a couple reasons why."

And that's when it hit him. Warrick was killed for doing a private investigation himself and he got in too deep, found out too much. And that is exactly what Greg was purposing to them. Of course Grissom wouldn't agree with the idea. Losing one CSI was hard enough, but losing two others would pain him and Catherine. "You're right…maybe we should keep it between ourselves."

"Greg…I don't know."

"Oh don't say that, Nicky! You know you want to do this. What's holding you back?"

"My anger! I'm afraid that when we meet this mole person, I'm just going to completely go off on him and do something that I will regret for the rest of my life!"

"You won't, because I'll be right there next to you to stop you. I promise."

Nick turned and gave Greg what he hadn't seen for since the night they all had dinner…their last moments with Warrick; a smile. "Alright Greggo, you win. Let's do this."

TBC…

**This is what sets up all of the good Greggo angst and Nick angst to come! So please, R&R!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

After Greg and Nick arrived back at the lab, they immediately went to Ballistics with three large brown bags in each hand. In each bag was each revolver they had gained, sealed in their own plastic bag. Sure enough, Bobby Dawson was in there looking very gloomy. Warrick's death had really hit everyone hard, even the lab techs. Even Hodges, who wasn't his normal, annoying self. Trying to lighten the mood, Greg greeted, "Hey Bobby."

"Hey Greg, hey Nick. What can I do for you two today?" asked Bobby in a sad tone.

"How about helping us solve Warrick's case?" suggested Greg as he and Nick threw the large brown bags full of guns onto the table. "We need you to test these against the bullet at the scene," informed Nick.

"How many are there?"

"Well…uh…I lost count after thirty," smiled Greg, trying to crack a joke.

"That's gonna take a while, fellas."

"We got time to kill."

Bobby nodded and went to work. "Hey Bobby, if you ever need any help, give us a call," stated Nick.

"You got it, hoss," replied Bobby as Nick and Greg headed back to the break room. As they walked, Nick asked, "Hey Greg, you know how Warrick was talking about Gedda having a mole in the lab?"

"Yeah, but I thought we established it was Pritchard?"

"Come on, Greg, do you really expect Gedda to collaborate with a low life like Pritchard?"

"True. Maybe there's a clue at Pritchard's that might tell us who."

"Yeah, maybe you're right. If we find that clue, we might get closer to finding who killed Warrick."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go."

They were just heading out when Grissom approached them and said, "Greg, I need you to take this B&E in Henderson."

"But, I'm working Warrick's case."

"You were PERSONALLY asked for. You can catch up later."

Greg looked confused as Grissom handed him the slip. "Personally asked for, huh?"

"Shut up. Why don't you head over to Pritchard's and once I'm done with this, you can catch me up later."

"No man, we're in this together. Besides, we need to obtain a warrant to search Pritchard's place. We'll wait to do that when you're done with your B&E."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll help Bobby until you get done."

"Alright, this shouldn't take long. See you later."

And with that, Greg left, wondering who would ask for him.

* * *

When he arrived at the scene, Greg saw a large, nice home in the comfortable area of Henderson. Cops swarmed the area, making sure that no one got in to disturb the scene. Greg saw Brass talking with a woman. After showing his badge to the officer containing the scene, he headed over there. It wasn't until he got closer that he recognized the woman. "Jasmine?"

The woman with the long, brown hair looked up and smiled. "Greg, thank you for coming," she replied, running from her place with Brass and sharing a hug with the young CSI. Once they broke the hug, Greg said, "I haven't seen you since we graduated from Stanford together. What are you doing here? I thought you moved to Boston."

"I couldn't stand the people up there, so I decided to come back to my hometown."

"It's great to see you, Jazz."

"You know her?" inquired Brass.

"Yeah, we went to Stanford together. We were practically best friends. So, how did you know I worked in the Las Vegas Crime Lab?"

"Please, you kept telling me in Chemistry how you wanted to work in the busiest crime lab in the United States so you were always busy."

Greg and Jasmine laughed as Brass cleared his throat. "Well, this is a nice reunion, but do you remember why we are here, Sanders?"

"Oh, right, so Jasmine, what happened?" asked Greg, going down to business.

"Well, I had left four weeks ago for work related travel."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a diagnostic."

"I didn't know that required traveling."

"It does when it was back at the hospital I used to work for. Anyway, I came back and found my house trashed."

"Did you go inside?"

"Yeah, but I didn't touch anything."

"Did you notice what was missing?" asked Brass, finally getting a word in.

"Yeah, my plasma TV, my computer, my safe was broken into, my stereo…and my revolver."

Greg looked up in shock. "Revolver?"

"Yeah, a pump cartridge revolver. My buddy, Thomas, just had a daughter and his wife was trying to get rid of it. I promised to hold onto it until their daughter grew up and went off to college. That gun has been in his family for generations. His wife and I were going to switch the registration to me for the time being. We checked with a buddy at the lab for all the legal issues."

Did he just find the link to the missing gun? "Do you have any idea who would want to break into your house? Any enemies?" asked Brass.

"Not that I know of."

"Well then, Miss Daniels, I am going to take you down to the station, get your fingerprints and a statement then we'll book you a room at one of the hotels for the time being," said Brass as he started to lead her away.

"Actually Brass, why doesn't she stay with me at my house?" asked Greg.

"It's against lab policy, Sanders, you know that."

"Yeah, but I mean, we're already friends and it would save the lab some money in the long run."

Brass gave Greg that quizzical look, one that Greg knew all too well. "Alright, Sanders, you win. She'll be in my office. You can pick her up when you're done here. But not a word to anyone, understand?"

Greg nodded as Bras led Jasmine to his car and sped away. Taking out his flashlight, Greg began to investigate the house. The house looked like a tornado had swept through and destroyed everything in its path. He could see the spot where the TV use to hang on the wall. Swinging his flashlight around, Greg saw the open gun case. With his case in hand, he made his way to the spot. In the velvet was the perfect outline of a gun. Too bad he couldn't make an impression of the gun and test fire that. Taking out his fingerprint powder, he ran the brush over the case. On one side of the case was three perfect prints. If they matched Pritchard's, then this case was closed. After carefully lifting the prints, Greg processed the rest of the scene, but his focus was mostly on the prints sitting in his vest pocket.

TBC…

**So, what do you think? Are they Pritchard's or maybe McKeen's? Or are they somebody else's? R&R to find out!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay…I got side-tracked, as you can see. There's going to be a bit of GregOC, but it ties along with the story. Anyway…**

**Chapter 6**

Nick had finally snuck in a break between helping Bobby in ballistics and trying to force the idea of Warrick's death out of his head. As he sat in the break room with a cup of the horrible coffee cupped in his hands, he could feel the presence of his deceased friend with him. It was, to his amazement, comforting. He gave a smirk when Greg came running in, huffing. "There you are!"

"Greg? What's the rush?"

"You will not believe what my B&E turned up. I was talking to the owner's house, who is a friend of mine, and told me that one the items stolen in her house was the same make and model of the revolver we're after!"

Nick stood up with a smile. "Really?"

"And that's not even the half of it. I got prints off the gun case. Mandy's running them as we speak."

A glimmer of hope shimmered in Nick's eye. Could Greg really have found a key piece of evidence that might just help break the case? "How long do you think the prints will take?"

"I don't know, but I don't want to get too far away and have Mandy page me. I think we should stick around here until the prints are processed."

"Yeah, me too. Brass said the warrant might take a bit longer to handle. The judge apparently is having 'family issues' that is interfering with his ability to work."

"That's a new one."

Just then, Grissom came walking in looking bewildered. "Greg? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you still be at the crime scene?"

"I was and I brought back the evidence. I'm waiting for Mandy to process some fingerprints."

"Well, that may take a while. Ecklie made all of his evidence top priority and all of his evidence has to be processed first."

Just then, Greg's pager went off. Grissom raised his eyebrow and Greg looked and replied, "That's Mandy. She has the results. I got to go."

Quickly, Greg rushed past Grissom, causing Grissom to eye Nick suspiciously. "Hey, I don't question Greg anymore. He's filled with surprises."

And with that, Nick ran after Greg. Once he caught up with the spiky-haired man, Nick said, "You do realize that Grissom is going to ask Mandy how you got your results so fast."

"I know, that's why I'm going to ask Mandy to tell him that she had ran all of Ecklie's prints before mine and mine just got processed faster."

"That's not going to work on Grissom."

"It's worked on him before."

Nick stopped and watched as Greg walked into the print lab. "HOW DO YOU KNOW!"

Greg ignored Nick and walked up to Mandy and smiled, "Please tell me you got something good."

"I do…but it will come to you at a price."

Nick smiled as Greg sighed, "What?"

"I have to work on Saturday at 5. I'll give you my results if you come in and help me finish processing so I can get out in time for my date."

"Are you serious?"

Mandy smiled at the bewildered CSI. After sighing, he replied, "Alright. Now, what do you got?"

"Well, the prints didn't match anything in AFIS, but they did match someone in the Police Database."

"Let me guess; Pritchard?" asked Nick.

"No, a Lieutenant James Michaels. He retired six years ago and lives out in Summerlin."

"Lieutenant Michaels? You're telling me that we have a new suspect?" asked Greg.

"Either that or he's somehow tied to Warrick's killer. Do you have an address for us?" asked Nick.

Mandy handed over the piece of parchment to the two CSIs. "What do you say, Greg, ready for a little road trip?"

Before Greg could answer, Brass barged in and said, "Sanders, I need you to take you're friend home now."

As soon as Brass left, Greg turned to Nick. Before he could say anything, Nick replied, "Go take care of…whatever Brass meant. I'll be at my place. I need to shower and get something to eat anyway. I'll call you when I'm ready to head out."

Greg nodded and quickly headed towards Brass's office where Jasmine stood outside. "You ready to head out?"

Jasmine nodded and followed Greg to his Denali. Once they were settled inside, Greg began to drive to his apartment. The ride was filled with laughter and talking as the two friends caught up on what happened to them recently. Once they reached Greg's place, he led her inside and said, "Ignore the mess."

Sure enough, his apartment was a pig sty. Jasmine laughed and replied, "Your dorm room was exactly like this. I guess some things never change."

Greg laughed and asked, "You want something to eat? I have microwavable hamburgers in my fridge."

Jasmine laughed and replied, "Sure. Do you have any beer?"

"Now what kind of place do you think I have if I didn't have the Elixir of Life in my fridge?" smiled Greg as he threw a Heineken at her.

After microwaving two hamburgers, Jasmine and Greg enjoyed a pleasant dinner. "Just like old times," she replied as she took a drink of her beer.

Greg sat and smiled as he watched her drink her beer. Jasmine noticed her staring and quickly took the bottle from her lips. "What?"

"This probably sounds really geeky, but ever since we met in college, I had the biggest crush on you."

"Yeah, that was really geeky. Are you always this forward with girls you like?"

"No, just the ones that I've known forever."

Jasmine took another drink and replied, "The truth is…I used to have a crush on you too."

"Oh-ho! Now who's the geeky one?"

Jasmine playfully punched Greg in the shoulder. After they finished laughing, they stared into each other's eyes. Slowly…they got closer and closer…then Greg's phone began to go off. Sighing, he sat back and answered his phone, "Sanders…couldn't you have waited a bit longer?...Nothing. I'll be over in a few."

Quickly, Greg hung up and turned to Jasmine. "Gotta go. Work to do. Just…uh…make yourself at home. There's a spare bedroom next to the bathroom. It's the one that has almost nothing in it. I'll be back."

Jasmine nodded and watched as Greg grabbed his coat and headed out while biting her lip.

* * *

Greg quickly drove over to Nick's apartment and picked up the Texan. "Hey, Greggo, what took you so long?"

"Nothing. You ready?"

Nick nodded and fastened his seat belt as Greg revved off towards Summerlin. As soon as they hit the desert, Nick asked, "Why did you ask if I could have waited a bit longer?"

"Oh…it was nothing."

"Does it have anything to do with that girl I saw you walking out with at the lab?"

With a chuckle, Greg replied, "She's a buddy of mine from college. Her house was the one that got broken into. She's staying at my place and…I have the biggest crush on her."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I told her and she said she had the biggest crush on me."

Nick smiled at Greg. "Wow, Greg, normally it would take you forever to tell a girl you liked them. How is it that you were so quick to tell her?"

"After Warrick died, I realized how short life can be. I figured, what could it hurt to tell her?"

Nick nodded and stared out the window. Warrick's death had really changed them all. Finally, they arrived at the house on the piece of paper. After they got out, they headed towards the door. The small white house stood in the middle of the neighborhood. Once they reached the white door, Nick knocked twice and shouted, "Lieutenant Michaels, can you open the door please?"

There was no answer. Nick knocked again and shouted, "Lieutenant Michaels, this is LVPD. Open the door!"

Still no answer. Nick pulled out his gun and tried the knob. Strangely enough, the door was unlocked. Nick turned to Greg and said, "Stay right behind me, okay?"

Greg nodded and followed Nick into the house. Once they stepped inside, a familiar smell hit their nostrils. "Is that what I think it is?" asked Greg.

Nick didn't reply and headed into the kitchen. Once they walked inside, they almost gagged at the sight in front of them. Lying on the ground in front of them was a dead Lieutenant Michaels with maggots and bugs all over his rotting corpse and in the middle of his head was a gunshot wound. "Well, there goes our suspect," sighed Nick.

TBC…

**Please R&R!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The body smelled horrible and almost made them want to gag, but this was a clue as to what happened to Warrick. They endured and went to work. As Nick went to work documenting the body, Greg examined the rest of the house, looking for clues. As the two men stood in the living room where the rotting body was found, Nick asked, "Do you smell that, Greggo?"

"Smells like someone tired to clean up," replied Greg, smelling the same bleach smell that Nick was referring to. Taking out his bottle of luminal from his kit, he began to spray the floor in the room. Just as he suspected, the floor lit up in a fluorescent blue. "There's a lot of blood here."

"But, if the body was found here, why is there a blood pool over there?"

"Maybe they dragged the body?"

Nick stood up and replied, "I doubt it. The only reason anyone was to drag a body is to conceal it. But, according the blood pattern, it looks like they shot in this room."

They pondered in thought as David shouted, "Uh, guys, you might want to take a look at this."

They both headed over to David's position, who was holding the body on his side. When they went to stand next to David, they saw what made the coroner call them over. In the middle of his back was another gunshot wound. Both of them bent over to get a closer look and made the presumption that he was shot at close range. Together, they stood up and looked at each other. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Nick.

"Are you thinking that someone came in, shot Lieutenant Michaels in the back, Michaels crawled over from the opposite side of the room to get to here and was then shot in the head?"

Nick nodded. "And not just anyone."

"You thinking Pritchard did this?"

"Who else?"

"It looks like it wasn't a through and through. We might be able to recover the bullet from autopsy," interrupted David.

Smiling, Greg went back to examining the house, taking pictures of the luminal patterns as he went. As he continued looking at the room, he found what appeared to be a strange mark on the hard wood floor. Taking out his UV light, he shined it over the spot with the orange filter and saw the perfect outline of a shoeprint in blood. Smiling, he sprayed it with luminal and snapped a quick picture. "Like Warrick use to say; it all comes down to shoe prints."

Ah, the fond memories. Warrick had told him that back when he was still working in the lab. It became Warrick's new motto…that and always bet on the underdogs. If only Warrick was there to help them solve this. They had combed through the scene and finally, when they figured they had seen everything, they piled into Greg's Denali and headed back to the lab. They figured it was going to be a long night, but it was worth it if they got THAT much closer to finding Warrick's killer. The ride back was in silence, both pondering what their newest evidence was going to tell them. When they arrived back at the lab, they found that most of the employees had gone home to get some sleep, including Ecklie, which relieved them. If he found out that they were working the case behind his back…things weren't going to be good for them. The only people left were Grissom, who was busy in his office and Catherine and Sara, who were asleep in the break room. They immediately made their way to the morgue, where they saw Doc Robbins prepping the body for autopsy. "Hey Doc," greeted Nick.

"Hey guys, you here for the autopsy?"

"Yeah. We didn't want to wait for the results," smiled Greg.

"That's good to hear. I really didn't feel like repeating my findings to you. I've had a trying day."

"Haven't we all," muttered Nick.

Nick and Greg watched as Doc Robbins took the scalpel and began the Y-incision on the cadaver. The stench from the inside of the body was unbearably disgusting, but they endured. They wanted that bullet. When they reached the lungs, Robbins pulled out the left lung and extracted the bullet. "There's bullet number one."

Greg immediately took out a bag from his pocket and held it open for Robbins to drop it inside. Once he sealed it and labeled it, Robbins went to work on exercising the bullet from the victim's head. The autopsy took a good two in a half hours, the three going over every inch of the victim's body. Once it was done, Doc Robbins began his speech. "According to the amount of blood built up in the lungs, the gunshot to the back was the first to occur. The trajectory was at a 45 degree angle, indicating an upward trajectory. The gunshot wound to the head indicates it was at close range, almost like an execution. Screams mob."

"I'm guessing cause of death is multiple gunshots," smiled Nick.

"Right you are, Nick."

"Can you estimate TOD?" asked Greg.

"The body is in advanced stages of decomp, so I'm guessing maybe a few days to a week ago. I'll get back to you with a more accurate TOD."

"Anything else?"

"Not really, but I do have a question for you two."

Nick and Greg stood with a look of curiosity. Normally it was them that asked him the questions. "What were you two doing at his house?"

"We were just following a lead of a B&E," replied Greg, partially lying but partially telling the truth. Doc Robbins nodded, cueing the two to leave. Once they walked through the double doors, Nick whispered, "That was close."

"Don't worry, he's not going to find out."

Suddenly, Nick's pager went off. Looking down, he saw that it was from Brass. "Hopefully he obtained the warrant for Pritchard's place."

Quickly, the two made their way down the hall towards Brass's office, which was only down the hall. When they walked in, they saw Brass holding an envelope. "You two are lucky. I had to pull a few favors to get this warrant."

Nick took the envelope from Brass and smiled, "We owe you one, Brass."

"You owe me more than one, Stokes. I've sent two officers down there to meet you."

Nick and Greg thanked the detective and headed back to the Denali, dropping off the bullets in Greg's locker so that as soon as they got back, they would process the bullets.

* * *

It didn't take long for Nick and Greg to arrive at the rundown house of Officer Pritchard. Even though he was a police officer, his house looked like it was in shambles. When they arrived, they found two cops standing outside the front door. When they approached, the cops opened the door without saying so much as a word to the CSIs and allowing them access. Once inside, the door was shut and Nick and Greg stared at the living room, which looked worse than the outside. "What do you say, Greggo? I take downstairs, you take up?"

"Sounds good to me."

Quickly, Greg ran up the steps to the top floor, which surprised Nick that he was able to live in such a horrible house but still manage to keep an upstairs. Putting on his latex gloves, he began searching the house for any evidence that could link the cop to the murder of Warrick Brown. He looked through desks, drawers, kitchen drawers, cabinets and even in the closet, but only came up short. However, what he did find was a bloody footprint by the front door. After taking a picture, he took a few more trips through the bottom floor and concluded that there was nothing down there. Hopefully Greg was having more luck upstairs. Deciding there was nothing more he could do, Nick decided he was going to search the perimeter for clues. Looking up the stairs, he shouted, "Greg, I'm going to look outside!"

"Alright, I'll be out in a minute, I just have to finish up around here."

"Don't take too long."

"I won't be, MOM!"

Nick laughed to himself as he walked outside. He had just rounded into the backyard and was near the back fence when he heard a loud explosion erupt. Turning, he saw the house had made the noise and watched as the structure collapsed, Greg still inside. Not believing his eyes, he ran towards the house, hoping Greg was still alive. As the dust settled, he began to dig through the rubble. He looked up to order the cops to call for help, only to find that they had mysteriously gone missing. Cursing to himself, he pulled out his phone and called Brass. "Brass, I need help out at Pritchard's house. There's been an accident. The house blew up and Greg was still inside. Call a paramedic and get down here stat!"

Once he hung up, he continued digging, hoping that his friend was still in one piece.

TBC…

**Please R&R!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey y'all! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Aren't I evil? Yes, I know, I'm an evil genius. As my buddy Celtic-Dragon-89 would say, "The plot bunnies have planted evil schemes in my head." Good for you guys, though, cuz this story will be moving a bit forward a bit faster. Yay!**

**Chapter 8**

As Nick kneeled down, digging through the rubble, he could only hope that Greg was alright. He had already lost Warrick…he didn't want to lose Greg too. Dust continued to rise from the debris, coating the inside of Nick's mouth and lungs. The blasted wood flew as Nick threw it off to the side. Nick's skin and clothes were covered in dust and soot. Even through the uncomfortable conditions, Nick dug on. Finally, two cars arrived, followed by several squad vehicles, their sirens blazing. The sound of sirens was used as a call to alert the neighbors from far away of their newest community gossip. Out of the lead cars came Brass, Catherine, Sara and Grissom. They were all in the same boat as Nick. Together, they ran to Nick's side and helped to excavate the wreckage trapping Greg inside, hopefully, alive. As Nick threw aside another piece of broken, rotted wood, a bloody, dirty arm shot up through the flotsam and jetsam. Nick quickly held the hand in his and shouted, "He's alive! He's over here!"

The four others abandoned their posts and began removing the remains from around the arm. When all the wood was gone, they saw Greg in a stated they wish they would never see him like again. There were severe bruises and abrasions on his exposed skin. Blood crusted on his skin and combined with the dust, turning the blood the color of ashen red. Through it all, Nick never let go of his hand. Everyone sighed with relief as Brass motioned over the medics. Greg let out a violent cough, holding his side beneath his coat. The medics pushed them aside, but could not push Nick away. He refused to let Greg go. He lost one friend; he wasn't going to lose another. But it seemed Greg had other plans. Slowly, Greg loosened his grip and let it slide from Nick's. Nick was surprised by this gesture and looked at Greg. As the medics pulled Greg from his little catacomb, Greg looked into Nick's eyes and gave him the look that everything would be fine. Nick understood and stepped aside, allowing the medics to do their job. Once he was out, the team watched as they placed him on a stretcher and wheeled Greg away. As they watched them load Greg into the ambulance, Grissom placed his own hand on Nick's shoulder and said, "Go with him. We'll meet you there."

Nick didn't say a word. He immediately ran into the ambulance and sat opposite the medic. Once the doors were closed, the ambulance sped off into the distance. Once the medic had his back turned, Greg pulled out a small paper evidence bag, coated with blood on the outside from the inside of his jacket. Nick slowly took it from Greg's hand. "Do not show anyone," croaked Greg.

As Nick stared at the bag, Greg asked, "Where is my camera?"

Slowly, Nick asked, "What?"

"My camera? Where is it?"

"It wasn't with you."

Greg turned his head and stated, "We need to find that camera."

"Relax Greg, I'll have Grissom look for it."

"No! Grissom can't find it. If he sees the pictures…"

"Ok, Greg. I'll make sure he doesn't look. You need to worry about yourself right now."

The medic finally turned back and began assessing the young man's injuries. Nick couldn't help but feel relieved that Greg was alright. As he sat there, eh pondered over what was in the bag. Holding it in his hands, he felt compelled to look inside, but Greg told him not to let anyone see it. It was driving him mad. Once they arrived at Desert Palms, Nick followed the medics to the second floor ICU and watched as they pushed Greg through the double doors to the ER. The waiting room was silent. No one was around. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Grissom's number. "Grissom, it's Nick…Greg's fine, they just wheeled him into the ER. Listen, Greg lost his camera. Do you think you could look for it...Thanks, Grissom."

After shutting the phone, Nick looked at the bag in his hands. No one was around. He could open it. He was just about to open it when the elevator revealed Sara. "Nick, how is he?"

Nick quickly hid the bag as Sara strode over to him. "They just took him into the ER."

"How was he in the ambulance?"

"Coherent and breathing. He was just fine…minus being trapped in an explosion."

Sara smiled. "I think Greg has rubbed off on you."

Nick joined Sara with a smile and together, they sat down in the waiting chairs. As they talked, Grissom and Catherine joined them with Grissom carrying a damaged but still whole camera. "Where's Brass?" asked Nick as he took the camera from Grissom's hands.

"He had to do something before he came here," replied Grissom.

Four hours passed and finally, the doctor came out to the waiting room, covered in blood and a smile on his face. That could only mean one thing. "Mr. Sanders pulled through. He'll be alright. We had to take him into surgery. There was some internal bleeding, but he's fine."

They all breathed a sigh of relief. He was going to be okay. "He's in the OR recovery area. You may go see him."

The doctor left them to celebrate a victory of life. Greg was alive, that was all that mattered. Quickly, they headed to the OR recovery area where they found Greg fast asleep in his hospital bed. His left arm was slung in a sling and a pair of stitches over his right eyebrow. Even though there were several visible bruises, Greg looked peaceful. As they walked inside, Sara grabbed Greg's chart and began to read. "Dislocated left shoulder, concussion, two broken ribs, broken left wrist and sever internal bleeding. Jeez, I knew Greg was lucky, but this is beyond luck."

"Well, knowing Greg, he's too stubborn to give up," smiled Nick.

Together, the four of them sat around Greg and waited. The sun slowly set and the moon rose, bringing in another day. It was almost midnight when Greg finally stirred. Everyone smiled as Greg opened his eyes and said, "Good morning."

"It's a bit premature for that," smiled Sara.

Throughout the night, they all sat together and just talked. If they learned anything after the death of Warrick, it was that time spent together is sacred. Together, they could feel the presence of their friend, whether he was watching over them or just listening quietly in the corner. The sun rose and the door opened to reveal Brass. "Sorry I'm late, I had to pick up a gift for Sanders."

Once Brass stepped aside, he was followed in by Jasmine, who smiled and ran to Greg, wrapping her arms around him. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better if I could breathe!"

Quickly, she let go and jumped up onto the bed, curling herself next to him. The team, minus Brass, looked confused. "Uh…Greg…?" began Catherine.

"Oh, guys, this is my best friend from Stanford, Jasmine. Jasmine, this is my boss, Gil Grissom and my friends, Catherine Willows, Sara Sidle and Nick Stokes."

They each shook her hand and greeted her with a friendly manner. For the rest of the day, they talked about past and present. Jasmine fitted in just fine. Slowly, they were all pulled away until Nick and Greg were the only ones left in the room. For a while, they just sat there, staring at one another in silence. There was no need for words. Nick was happy that Greg wasn't dead and Greg was happy Doc Robbins wasn't going to open him up on his table that night. Their eyes and faces did all the talking. Finally, Greg asked, "Have you opened the bag yet?"

"You told me not to show anyone and everywhere I turned, there was someone."

"Well, it's just you and me in here. I'm sure it's safe."

Slowly, Nick took out the large envelope from inside his jacket. Grabbing a Kleenex from the box on the table, he opened the tab and pulled out a piece of paper, the Kleenex between the paper and his skin. On the piece of paper was cut out letters from a magazine that spelt words. Clearing his throat, he read aloud;

**PRITCHARD,**

**ATTACHED IS THE $500 I OWE YOU FOR FRAMING WARRICK. YOU DID GOOD. GEDDA WOULD BE PLEASED. HOWEVER, IT LOOKS LIKE THINGS AREN'T OVER YET. I NEED YOU TO TALK TO LIEUTENANT MICHALES INTO GOING TO A FRIEND OF MINE'S HOUSE AND "BORROW" HER REVOLVER. WHEN YOU GOT TO PICK IT UP, MAKE SURE THERE ARE NO LOOSE ENDS AND BRING THE GUN STRAIGHT TO ME. I'LL TAKE CARE OF THIS MYSELF. MAKE SURE TO STAY OUT OF SIGHT OR THIS OPERATION IS RUINED.**

"This guy is smart."

"Yeah, but we need to be smarter. What we know now is that Pritchard killed Lieutenant Michaels and someone else killed Warrick. Also, Pritchard isn't exactly all that bright either. All over his office were blueprints, pictures and plans. Here, take a look."

Greg grabbed his camera and angled it for both of them to see with his right hand. Nick watched as Greg flipped through pictures of plans, photos of Warrick and other miscellaneous pictures. There was a photo Nick didn't get a chance to see because Greg flipped through it so fast. "Hey, go back!"

"Oh, it's nothing. I was getting bored and did some funny pictures," he replied, flipping through six more photos before turning the camera back to Nick. Once Greg had gone through all of the photos, the door opened and Ecklie stepped inside. "Stokes, Sanders, I understand you were the ones who found Lieutenant Michaels?"

They nodded. "Why were you out there?"

"His fingerprints were found at my B&E," replied Greg.

"And you were at Pritchard's house because…?"

"We were looking for the gun."

"Did you find it?"

Greg shook his head. Nick just sat there, silent. "Okay. Stokes, we need you back at the lab. Get better, Sanders."

And with that, Ecklie left the room. Once he was gone, Nick turned to Greg and said, "You lied to Ecklie!"

"Everybody lies."

"Did you just quote _House_?"

Thinking about it, Greg smiled. "Yeah, I did. Great show. I guess you're the Wilson to my House."

"Right. Anyway, I need to go. I'll check this note for prints. I can develop your film if…"

"NO!"

Nick jumped slightly from Greg's response. "I mea, I can do it when I get out of here. It's alright."

A little shocked, Nick replied. "Alright, get better soon, man."

With that, Nick stood up and left the room. As soon as the door was closed, Greg looked at his camera screen in fear as he stared at the pictures he refused to show Nick.

TBC…

**So, what do you think are in those pictures? If you guess correctly, I'll dedicate a chapter in your name, how's that? For those of you who have read my House stories, you know what kind of game I'm cooking up…and as you can see, I've been in a House mood, but aren't we all guilty of being in some sort of mood? Anyway, please R&R!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As soon as Nick arrived back at the lab, he was just about to walk into the print lab when Undersheriff Mckeen stepped in front of him and asked, "Stokes, can I have a word with you in my office?"

Nick could only nod at the major power within the lab. Slowly, he followed Mckeen into his office. Once Mckeen closed the door, he asked, "How's Sanders?"

"He's better, considering." Mckeen sat behind his desk and motioned for Nick to do the same. As Nick sat down in the chair, McKeen asked, "How is the Brown case coming?"

"Shouldn't you be asking Ecklie? After all, he's the lead on the case."

"Yes, but as I understand it, you and Sanders are coming along better than he is. Thought I would get my information from the more successful source."

Nick looked at McKeen with a look of interest as McKeen stared back at him with a smile on his lips. "You know I'm not allowed to discuss on ongoing case."

"Being the Undersheriff, I can bend the rules."

"Why the sudden interest?"

Leaning back in his chair, McKeen licked his lips and stared at Nick's intent face. Taking in a breath, McKeen replied, "One of our own died, Stokes. According to what I understand, one of our own is responsible. I want to find this bastard and make sure Brown gets the justice he deserves."

Nick ran his hand down his face and bit his lower lip, thinking of what McKeen had regurgitated to him. After a small pause, Nick replied, "We still haven't found the gun, but we know it was stolen at Greg's B&E. We checked out Pritchard's house to try and find it, but no gun."

"Did you find anything?"

The letter and pictures that Greg found came up in the back of Nick's mind, but Nick held them in and lied, "Nothing."

"Could it be Pritchard is the mole in the lab?"

There was something very suspicious about McKeen's interest and tone of voice. Nick's mind kept telling him not to say anything and that McKeen was acting very suspiciously. So, Nick replied, "You know as much as I do, McKeen."

That wasn't the answer McKeen wanted to hear, which he made evident by leaning back in his chair and huffing. Shooting a glare at Nick, he ordered, "Then go find more."

Nick didn't hesitate to leave the room. He was definitely going to talk to Greg first about McKeen's suspicious activity. Nick's first stop was the print lab where he found Mandy falling asleep at her desk. Gently, Nick shook her shoulder, causing Mandy to suddenly wake up. "Morning, sunshine," Nick replied.

"Hey Nick…sorry…Ecklie has loaded a bunch of prints on me. I haven't gotten any shut eye for a while."

"Well, I was going to ask you to print something, but you look like you're about to fall over. Maybe you should go get some coffee or something?"

Mandy nodded and slowly, she rose from her seat and headed down the hall. Once she was gone, Nick pulled out the evidence bag and removed the letter. Constantly looking over his shoulder, Nick went to work printing the letter. Only three prints came up on the paper. Lifting the prints, he ran them through the police database, only to realize fifteen minutes later that all three prints belonged to Pritchard. Another dead end. Placing the letter in a clean evidence bag, Nick sealed it just as Mandy came walking back through the door with a cup of coffee in her hand. "Good timing…I'm all finished up here."

"Alright. Where are you headed off to now, cowboy?"

"I'm going to check up on Greg at the hospital."

"Oh, can you give this to him?"

Mandy handed Nick a sealed letter envelope with Greg's name on it. "What is it?" asked Nick, taking the envelope in his hands.

"I don't know. It was sitting by the coffee pot in the break room."

Nick wanted to know what it was that sitting inside that envelope, but part of him didn't want to know. Nick thanked her and headed to his car, caring the envelope delicately like it was a bomb that with the slightest movement, it would explode. The small envelope sat on the passenger seat as it were a human. Occasionally, Nick would glance over and stare at the envelope, wondering what was inside. It was gnawing at him from the inside. His investigator instincts told him to open it, but his friend instincts told him not to. It wasn't until he hit his fifth red light that finally, his curiosity got the better of him and Nick found himself tearing the envelope open.

The parchment on the inside was clean and white. Nick would have thought it was blank if he didn't see the ink that was soaking through the paper. Pulling it out carefully, he followed the folds until it was completely open and stared at the ink. His eyes scanned the page and once his eyes finished the end, he looked up in a look of utter terror. Turning on his sirens, he ran through the red light and pulled out his phone. After a few rings, the deep of voice answered, _"This is Brass."_

"Brass, this is Nick. You need to get officers over to Greg's hospital room now!"

_"Nick, what's wrong? What happened to Sanders?"_

"Nothing happened to him…not yet. I'll explain later. Just get uniforms over there NOW!"

And with that, Nick slammed his phone shut and mounted the curb. He needed to get to Greg NOW.

Meanwhile, Greg slept soundly in his hospital bed. The monitor next to him beeped steadily at a soothing rhythm. The doctors paid no heed as a man in a white labcoat walked through the halls towards the room. After all, he blended in. Reaching into his pocket, the man pulled out a syringe filled with a clear liquid. Slowly, the man walked into Greg's room, not disturbing the resting form. Turning around, Pritchard smiled as he closed the door and blinded the room from the outside world.

TBC…

**Please R&R! I'm REALLY sorry for the lack of updates. I've been working on some stories that I hope to get published in the future, but after watching Alice, I realized my passion for writing fanfic again, so here ya go!**

**Hatter**


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